


Goodbye mate

by Erine_24



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: Bloody Virus, Goodbyes, Letters, Losing Control, Love, Love Letters, M/M, Mention of Suicide Attempt, Newt loves Thomas, The Flare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erine_24/pseuds/Erine_24
Summary: Newt goes outside, letting thoughts running through his mind. He had just let his emotions control him, guided by this bloody virus. And he had almost hurt Thomas, exploding of jealousy in front of everyone.And yes, this is a one-shot about the moment where Newt is alone, just after his loss of control, and right before he revealed to Thomas that he has the flare.
Kudos: 8





	Goodbye mate

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! ^^

When he felt the air caressing his skin, sunlight brightening his face, Newt directly sighed, feeling better. He closed his eyes, trying to let all the emotions controlling him go away, hoping it would be for good, but knowing deep down it would never. So he let himself slowly fall against the wall behind him, millions of thoughts running through his mind.

The last minute was replaying again and again in his head, and he didn’t even know where to start nor what to think. He dropped his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands. Then he let them slip away and fall by his side, raising his head to carefully stare at the sun.

That damn sun, that started all of this, all this bloody shit. First – not that he remembered – it burned Earth, burned the whole world, killing it, irreversibly changing it to some nightmare, condemning them all. Then… It had bought this. This bloody virus.

At this thought, Newt couldn’t help but put a hand on his right arm. Is has become like a sort of reflex. But he could feel it, at the same time, inside of him. It was growing, slowly, but deeply. It was there. And there was no way to fix it. It only has been a couple of days since he discovered it, and Newt didn’t even know how he could’ve even got this thing. Maybe it was getting so worse that the virus was airborne, now. Maybe life was more screwed up than they thought. Maybe all of the people like him, not immune, would be affected soon.

But the man still sitting against the wall never has been surprised about it.

He knew anyway that he would get it one day or another. He always knew it. Of course, the feeling had increased when Winston had died. Because they knew then that not all of them were immune like they thought. And that time, Newt had felt like he knew, deep down, that he wasn’t either. That the virus was already a part of him like it was part of this world. But even before that… He never believed in life. This was exactly the first feeling he could ever remember feeling. Not being able to remember his own identity, his own existence. Being just… lost. Trapped. And this was just a thought first, but he never believed his life had a purpose. All he could see and believe in was seeing his friends die, and failing at living, failing at being free.

There had been dark moments, and some way darker than others, like the one time he tried to kill himself. And even if he never thought of dying after that - well not completely at least -, even if finally, he had found something to believe in, something to hold on to… He knew he would never believe he is worth saving, worth dying for.

And that was exactly why he hadn’t told anyone about his arm. Why he hadn’t told _Thomas_.

Because the plan was more important. Saving Minho, saving those children, was more important than saving his life. They couldn’t lose time. It would put everyone in danger and he couldn't risk that. They _had_ to do this.

_Do this before I hurt him again._

He closed his eyes again at that thought, his face distorting, his stomach pain going back again fiercely. And he thought again about what just happened two minutes ago. He had lost control. He - or the virus - had let his emotions overtake his life and actions. He had just felt so... Jealous. Damn, yes, that was jealousy. He knew it. There always had been a part of it inside of him, every time it came to Thomas and Teresa. He had never been blind about it.

It was funny somehow. All his entire existence had been erased, and everything he discovered since the moment he arrived in the glade, had always scared him, even a bit, on the inside. Because it was that disbelief, that distrust, fear of the unknown. But what he felt about Thomas... it had grown, so much these last months, but he always knew. It never scared him. It was like those feelings were part of him, like it was something that just came back to his life, giving it a slice of purpose, a hope.

So yeah, he was in love with Thomas. Of course he was. His heart was skipping a beat every time the man was entering the room, stealing his breath, and the only thought of him was keeping him warm in his entire body, having strange, sometimes hurtful, but mostly pleasant feelings on his stomach and chest. And it was something, above all else, that he couldn’t control. He was in love with Thomas. His best friend. The one that had saved them all. The one he would follow anywhere. The one he would die for.

And sometimes, when he was wondering, thinking, losing himself in all sorts of questions and thoughts... he loved to believe he had been in love with him even before the maze. That this comfort he had felt when Thomas had arrived the first day... had a meaning. A purpose.

Of course, it was just a thought and something he could only imagine, but, after almost four years, as far as his memory could go... it was the first time something wasn't appearing as a stranger. And somehow, it had made him feel warm inside.

But that... all of that. He never told Thomas. Of course he _could_ have. But then again, Minho was more important than his feelings. And he couldn't risk a confession to interfere in any way on the plan they had had. And Thomas _couldn't_ know. The man was already taking too much, always caring everything on his shoulders. So no, he couldn't bring this up.

Mostly now.

Now that they had people to save. And now that... that he knew he wouldn't make it.

He knew. He had only been affected around two days before, and there were already consequences on his actions and his body and mind. This virus was already taking way too much control... Damn, he had almost hurt Thomas. He... It had happened so fast. There were these feelings, this anger and jealousy inside him, and he tried, he tried to shut them, not interfere, never interfere... but it obviously came out. Bloody hell, he had exploded. And now... he felt like he couldn't control anything anymore.

He knew it would only get worse. And that's why he couldn't stop for anything. There was no cure for him. And what Thomas had done for Brenda... well, it could still not work on him. And even, it would only slow them. They didn't have _time_ for this. And no way he was going to leave Thomas. So that's why they _needed_ to go fast. Not lose any time.

And that's why he would stay with Thomas. Till the end. Till his end. He would stay... until he would become dangerous. Damn, he already was dangerous. But he wouldn't let himself hurt anyone. Hurt _Thomas_. He would leave before it's too late. He would. He had been thinking about this for the two last days, from the moment he had discovered he had the flare. That he would turn... into a monster.

So his death was inevitable. He wouldn't make it and he knew that. He just... he had to tell Thomas. Say proper goodbyes. Newt was just so afraid that, if he loses himself too much into the virus... he could not be able to say proper goodbyes. Anything... But Thomas _deserved_ it. He deserved a real goodbye, real words, real intentions.

So there was only one way to do this. Be sure he would get those goodbyes.

And well, to be honest, he also wanted to do this. Say those things he never had the time to say.

So he got up slowly, looking around him. He searched for something, anything, a paper, a pen... And in his short search, he found something. A necklace. A strange necklace. It looked like… like a small capsule. So Newt opened it. And then he knew. He knew, and he started to write.

He was sitting near a little table. He had his pen, his papers... And then, taking a deep breath, he let his shaking hand thumbing the sheet, his body confused.

_**Dear Thomas.** _

He could do this.

_**This is the first letter I can remember writing.** _

He wanted to tell. He couldn't just go straight to the point. There wasn't even any point. He just... needed to write him something.

_**Obviously I don't know if I wrote any before the maze, but, even if it's not my first, it's likely to be my last.** _

Newt breathed slowly, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again. He said he wasn't going straight to the point? Bloody hell, screw this. He had to be honest. Honesty had always been what they had. He had maybe kept his secret from him but... he had to be honest now. He wanted to be honest. And he wanted Thomas to feel it too. To feel that trust he had in him.

And Newt also wanted Thomas to know it was okay. That this, this life, what would happen to him... was okay. That _he_ was okay about it. And that he wanted Thomas to be too.

_**I want you to know that I'm not scared. Well, not of dying anyway, it's more forgetting.** _

Forgetting. The only thought of that word made him hurt. If anyone had ever asked him what his biggest fear was, he would answer this word.

**_It's losing myself to this virus that's what scares me._ **

And it was true. Damn, Newt was so afraid. Afraid of forgetting all those little things, all those things that had BUILT him. All those memories, those four years of memories… It was all he had… And it was the only thing he could hold on to. The only things he could live for.

_**So every night I've been saying their names out loud. Alby, Winston, Chuck.** _

Their faces came to his mind as he was writing. Like they were with him, at that very moment. Saying goodbye with him. And Newt smiled at those memories. Alby, the one that taught him so much, that taught him everything. He was the one that would always listen to him, the one he would always listen to. Look up too. Winston, that sweet friend, that had lived so much, lost so much, but never giving up on them all. And Chuck, their little brother, a light in the dark, a sun himself that the world didn’t deserve.

_**And I just repeat them over and over like a prayer, and it all comes flooding back.** _

Without noticing, he was starting to tell everything. To tell… his story. He didn’t know if it was to be remembered or just because he wanted to say this even once, confide to him, having to tell those things he wasn’t letting anyone know. To share, for once, what he really feels about everything.

**_Just the little things, like the way the sun used to hit the glade at that perfect moment right before it sleeps beneath the walls._ **

Newt closed his eyes at that moment, like he was traveling again to get to his memories. And he remembered. Those moments, his favorite moments of the day. He remembered liking sitting on a stump or something, raising his head just to look at the sun going away. Because it felt like peace, seeing and _feeling_ the sun living the glade, leaving them to go somewhere nobody knows. And it felt like, somehow… it was tired. That this giant star was brightening every day, lightening everything, giving life, giving hope… but at the end of the day, was just tired. Just tired of shining, tired of turning around endlessly. And for Newt, it felt like he wasn’t alone. Like they weren’t the only ones, turning around endlessly, trying to shine and hope every day, but all hopeless on the inside, longing for a life they would never get to live, a path they could never take.

Those moments were what was comforting him every day, even the darkest ones. But of course, it wasn’t the only thing that was.

_**And I remember the taste of Frypan's stew.** _

He smiled at that memory. That memory that was maybe the only slice of joy every day, when everyone was reuniting, waiting and laughing, commenting about how awful this stew would be, but liking it on the inside. Everyone talking and Fry just laughing, smiling and proud of himself and what “masterpiece” he had done again, blowing comments at anyone who could say otherwise. And Newt laughed. He laughed like he used to laugh every time.

But today, there was a difference. There was nostalgia. But also happiness. Happiness that this had happened. Happiness for having to remember those little things. Having to live them.

And he missed it.

_**I never thought I'd miss that stuff so much.** _

Newt was still smiling when the memory inside his mind sliced to another one. More brightening than any other one. That one memory, so important, so… _Everything._ And then he smiled even more, softly.

_**And I remember you.** _

Thomas.

Newt remembered when they all had heard the sound coming from the box, meaning a new poor kid was going to join them, another one who would be trapped, forever. That was the thought the blond man had every time he was hearing that sound.

But then he had seen his face. His panicked, confused, and lost face. And again, he felt like he wasn’t alone.

_**I remember the first time you came up of the box, just a scared little greenie who couldn't remember his own name.** _

And all the memories of Thomas were just switching to one another.

The greenie who was too curious, questioning everything and everyone. And even there, Newt knew he was different.

Them, meeting each other for the first time, the brown man looking at him and Newt not being able to do anything but smile, smile bigger than he ever did in more than three years.

Their talk at the campfire, Newt explaining and showing their way of life, talking to him about the maze, the glade and them. Him feeling like he could just spill it all out, tell him everything, open up to him and never close the door sealed for so long that had opened suddenly.

The greenie remembering. His name. His name was Thomas. _Thomas_.

Thomas being attacked by Ben, and Newt not even hesitating a second to rescue, acting as a reflex, he didn't know. He didn't know then.

Then Minho and Alby missing. Thomas asking always and always _too many questions_. And Newt trying not to appear as worry as he was on the inside, keeping himself once again to just tell everything to Thomas, like he was the only one who could ever listen.

And then Thomas ran. He ran into the maze. Risking his life to save Minho and Alby. Or to be stupid and suicidal, as they all thought. But not Newt. No. That moment, it made something click in him. Seeing Thomas doing the one thing no one would never have done. And he knew.

**_but from the moment you ran into the maze I knew I would follow you anywhere._ **

And he has.

_**And I have.** _

Always. And forever.

_**We all have.** _

Newt's stomach was all burning. A fire that was warming his entire body, a feeling that would never fade away. A feeling that was keeping him going. Hoping. _Living_. And a heartbeat that was getting faster and faster and always _faster_. Something that was changing his entire body. But it felt good. And it was the best thing Newt could ever remember feeling. _Love_.

And, damn, he wasn't regretting any of this. Following Thomas. Believing in him, trusting him. Never giving up on him. Supporting him and being there for everything that came into their way. _Loving him_.

These four years had built him. And those six months had changed him.

_**If I could do it all over again I would, and I wouldn't change a thing.** _

Newt was feeling warmer and warmer in his chest. And he was so close to just drop everything, run back to Thomas and tell those things face to face, holding his cheeks in his hands, and bloody kissing him. Kissing him like the world's sake depended on it.

Then, he wanted to tell him he loved him. Tell those three words, the ones he hadn't told anyone, the ones that struggling to get out of his mouth pretty much every time he was standing next to Thomas. The ones that he was struggling not to write at that exact moment.

Because he couldn't. He could just dream. Say goodbye. And hope.

**_And my hope for you, is when you're looking back years from now you'll be able to say the same._ **

Right now, and when he was thinking about the future, their future... knowing he wouldn't be there to see it, knowing he wouldn't be there to tell them… He just wanted Thomas to feel the same. To not regret anything, anything that ever happened.

He just wanted them to have a future. Have happiness.

_**The future is in your hands now, Tommy.** _

He knew they could do it. He knew they could find peace. He knew they _would_. And he knew Thomas would lead them to some place better. Some life better. He believed it. And somehow, it was keeping him going too. Knowing them all, and Thomas, would finally be peaceful at the end of it.

**_And I know you'll find a way to do what's right. You always have._ **

After all, it was Thomas. Thomas who was always trying to save everyone. This same Thomas who was always trying to do the right thing. Fight for his friends. The Thomas who was never giving up until they're all free. Until his friends are safe. The Thomas he fell in love with.

_**Take care of everyone for me.** _

Newt had always seen all of the gladers as family. He had been the second one to wake up on the box. The one who had followed Alby. The one who had survived four years. And he always took care of the gladers, of his people. Because the only thing they had, was each other. So he always held on to that. And he cared about them. About all of them. But he would have to leave them.

Leave him.

_**And take care of yourself.** _

Newt knew Thomas wouldn't dare to think about himself. He knew that brown boy would take care of everyone, only worry about them and how they feel, of course, like he always has. Thomas wouldn't take time for himself. Or maybe he would. Maybe the other ones would be there to remind him that he would have a life now. A real life. And that finally, he could live for himself. Maybe. But Newt wanted him to know. Thomas had to know, that above all, more than anyone and more than anything, he deserved it.

_**You deserve to be happy.** _

He deserved peace, safety, life, happiness. _H_ _ome_. Thomas deserved to feel that, feel what he had made Newt feel every time they were staring at each other's eyes.

And for that, Newt would forever be grateful to him. Forever and ever.

Because Thomas had made him _feel_. He had made him feel like he was someone. That he _belonged._

_**Thank you for being my friend.** _

Best friend, actually. The best friend he could ever have.

And the only one that owned his entire heart and soul.

**_Goodbye mate._ **

And Newt smiled.

**_NEWT._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did ^^


End file.
